george weasley moodboard
luna lovegood moodboard
i threw this together really fast but im honestly really proud of it
đĄđđđŤđ đŹđĄđđŠđđ đ˘đŚđđ đ˘đ§đ âsend me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble
sirius/james introducing shy!reader to remus. and shes just like quiet and in awe, but remus loves it.
luveline's 40k party â tysm for requesting! remus x shy fem!reader
James is used to your personality after months of being your lecture neighbour, unperturbed by your quiet. "It's going to be fun," he promises, handing you a cold glass of cranberry vodka. "They're nice, okay? I won't let anyone irritate you."Â
He's hosting a party and had the generosity to invite you round early. He's easing you in, so to speak. It took him two weeks of steady Hellos for you to work up the courage to say Hi back, another two weeks for small talk, a month before you felt comfortable speaking to him first. If you're that shy, a party is basically torture.
"It's not about irritating me," you say.Â
"I know, I'm messing." James lists his head to the left. A second later, there's a knock at the door. "Aha. Wait here, shortcake, there's someone I want you to meet."Â
"James," you say after him, wet from your glass leaking down to your sleeve, "what?"Â
"I asked him to come early and say hello! He's quiet and handsome and you'll love him, just don't stare at his nose."Â
What's wrong with his nose? you think, alarmed.Â
James opens the door. Two new voices emerge, one scratchy and a little high, the other smoother. "I need to pee so bad," the scratchy one declares, followed by bounding footsteps up the stairs.Â
"You alright?" the smoother asks.
You think there's patting, a hug, "I'm brilliant! You smell really nice, Remus, like a garden."Â
"Lovely."
"In a good way! Come and meet my Y/N, you remember I told you about her nice gel pens?"Â
James leads the smooth-voiced Remus into the living room. You hurriedly put down your drink and stand, wiping your wet hands in your shirt. You cringe at the darkening fabric but hide your grimace as they stop in front of you.Â
"Remus, Y/N. Y/N, Remus," James introduces you both.Â
Remus has a scar across his nose that seems cruelly cut. There's another beside it that starts in his upper lip, both of which end in his eyebrow. You know how self-conscious it feels to be looked at, so you manage to smile and offer your hand without too much of it. He's handsome with his scars, a nice nose with a ridge and brown eyes the colour of caramelised sugar.
"Hello," Remus says, shaking your hand. His is big enough to make yours feel small.Â
"I invited her early because she's more fun than the rest of our lot," James says, throwing himself down on the sofa and kicking his legs out on the coffee table.Â
Remus taps your elbow very gently as if to usher you to sit and sits down beside you, enough space to be casual but too little to stop the rampant nerves that blossom in your stomach.Â
Remus asks about your life. What you're studying, where you're from, if James is being nice to you. While James is touchy in the rough older brother way, scrunching your shoulder and shaking you when you're not expecting it. Remus is touchy in a different way, you find, almost as if he doesn't know he's doing it. His shoe bumps your shoe, his hand falls down between his outer thigh and your own, his knuckles touching your jeans very lightly. He spins in his seat to talk to you.Â
You don't notice other people arriving, nor the scratchy-voiced friends return. All you can do is look up at Remus with wide eyes. Your nerves meld to something warmer.Â
"And what do you do?" you ask him.Â
He smiles like you've wandered into a secret. "I'm trying to write a book."Â
"He's being a bit much," Sirius says to James, the two now loitering in the doorway with matching beers. You and Remus chatter on, unaware of their running commentary.
"It's a very strong reaction. I knew she'd like him, but I didn't think she'd like him like that." James takes a sip of his drink. Remus asks you a quiet question. You duck your head, playing with your sleeves, and Remus, the bastard, ducks his head to follow your gaze, smiling at you all the while.Â
James almost chokes, pointing his bottle toward you both as though Sirius isn't already looking. "He's eating it up. I forgot how flirty he is."
"She'll be nice to him, won't she?" Sirius asks, like it's a done deal. To be fair, Remus seems enthralled with you.Â
"Definitely. She's very nice. Oh, look, that's sick, she's gonna pass out." James winces as Remus takes your arm into his hand.Â
Remus wouldn't do anything cruel, but James wasn't joking when he told Remus that you were exceedingly, achingly shy. He's about to step in and rescue you, but you turn into Remus' touch and pull your leg up on the sofa to make yourself comfortable. Your voice is animated, if quieter than the average person's.
"Woah," James says, beaming. Â
Remus flirts almost as a defence, like he wants to get the rejection over and done with so he can move on. You've yet to reject; you're looking up at him in moderate awe, your lips quirked into an easy smile.Â
"Boo!" James calls, flicking his bottle cap at Remus, who brushes it away. "Took me three weeks to get a smile out of her," he mutters. "What a dick."Â
THE WEASLEY TWINS in THE GOBLET OF FIRE.
An overview of all the stories I wrote about Loki and Tom Hiddleston. Most of them are 18+. Please read the warnings before you read one of them.Requests are closed until Iâm all caught up. If I have, then Iâll open them again. Thanks for understanding!
Last update: 02-08-2021Â
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Summary: itâs the dead of summer in New York City, so youâre wearing a sundress. This causes Peter to lose his mind.
Warnings: explicit smut, unprotected sex, afab reader, dom/sub elements, choking, slight voyeurism, Peter being a horny mess. Iâve never written smut before so uh yeah.
@agnesamarantheastwood @decadentpaperduck @phoebe-danvers @vigilvntes if I forgot anyone I am so sorry
âBabe, come on! Weâre going to be late!â
You had to laugh. A few months ago, getting Peter to come to the farmers market with you was like pulling teeth. Now it was his favorite part of his and your Saturday plans.
Saturdays were devoted to the two of you. No work, no Spider-manning (as you liked to say). Just you and Peter. Sometimes you spent the day running errands, sometimes you spent it lazing around the apartment you shared. What you did never mattered, what mattered was that you got to spend time with the most amazing man you knew.
Even if he was being impatient.
It was the dead of summer in New York City. Which mean that by one in the afternoon, it was going to be hotter than Satanâs ass crack. The two of you had several errands to run
You noticed the sundress out of the corner of your eye. You had brought it on a whim, after seeing it in one of those â25 viral pieces of clothing you have to buy!â articles on the internet. You knew deep down that those brands had paid the website to be on the list, but damn if that dress didnât look cute. It was white and had your favorite flowers splashed throughout the dress, with tortoise buttons from top to bottom.
You slipped it on and headed into the living room, ready to start your day with Peter.
âBabe come on, if we donât leave now, the empanada stand is going to run-â Peter stopped when you entered the living room.
â-out.â
Holy shit.
Heâd never seen you in a sundress. He didnât know how that was possible, after dating for you several years. But fuck if it wasnât the hottest sights he had ever seen.
If you asked Peter what his favorite part of your body was, he would say all of it, which isnât a lie. But there were some parts he liked a little more than others. And right now, all those parts were on display. Your shoulders were bare and so was your back, other than those two thin straps that kept your dress up. Those two straps deserved a medal considering your tits looked like they were dying to get out of the dress. The dress came to the middle of your thighs and of course to look down at your thighs, he also had to notice your hips and fuck.
He slowly stood up from the couch, using his long fingers to adjust his pants to help better cover up his growing erection. He felt like a teenager again, crossing his legs and arms to conceal the physical indicator that he was horny for you.
On any other day, Peter had no issue picking you up and having his way with you.
But he also knew how unhappy you would be later if yâall put off buying a new showerhead again. You two also needed to buy groceries because this was the fifth week you and him had âdecidedâ you would stop eating out so much.
Errands first. Then fuck insanely hot girlfriend. Thatâs what being a responsible adult was, right?
âYou okay Tiger?â Your sweet voice broke him out of his thoughts.
âOh yeah, yeah,â if he repeated it enough, maybe he could convince you and himself, âUhâŚ.Iâll be right back. Gotta go check something in the bathroom.â
âWerenât you just saying that we need to leave?â You asked, raising an eyebrow.
âYeah but that was before nature called!â Peter all but ran to the bathroom, hoping the cold water he was about to splash on his face would calm down the tent in his shorts.
Be a responsible adult first, he kept reminding himself. That way he could fuck you for as long as he wanted, without having to go do errands. Just be a responsible adult.
Being a responsible adult sucked. In fact, Peter didnât even feel like an adult, despite all the errands you and him were doing. He felt more like a teenager, with how everything you did was turning him on.
Every time you turned your bare back to him, it made him imagine your back on the bed or against a wall while he fucked you. Every time you titled your head to look at something, it exposed your neck that was currently unmarked which Peter thought was a real shame, as he could easily fix that. Not to mention how every time you kneeled down to look at the flowers, your dress rose up a bit, which was causing him to think about how badly he wanted to bury his head in between your legs and-
âPeter!â Peter looked up to see you standing there, holding two different bouquets.
âWhich one do you think May will like better?â You asked. You brought flowers with you when you first met May and it was now a tradition you insisted on whenever the two of you had dinner at her place. Peter was incredibly thankful that this dinner wasnât happening until tomorrow night.
âS-SheâsâŚ. go-going to love whichever one we bring babe,â He stuttered through. He really felt like a teenager again and not an almost thirty-year old.
You lowered the bouquets, raising an eyebrow, âAre you okay? Is the heat getting to you? Youâre sweaty.â
âY-Yeah, Iâm great! Just needâŚneed to go to the bathroom.â Maybe if he splashed his face with water, he could focus. Or maybe the smell from the portables would do it.
âAgain? Also the bathrooms are rancid, are you sure you want to go in there?â You asked as you put a bouquet back.
âYeah, yeah, yeah! Iâll be right back y/n.â Normally heâd kiss you on the cheek or forehead but not this time. He was too busy running his shaking fingers through his hair and biting his lip, almost like he was-
Oh.
You had heard the joke. That sundresses to men were what rolled up sleeves were to women. Well, Peter just proved that it wasnât a joke, it was an actual thing, a thing he was experiencing right now. Your boyfriend was turned on by just what you were wearing. You had done nothing intentional to turn him on.
At least, not yet.
You still had several errands that needed to be done before the two of you could go home. And you were determined to have some fun with this.
Turning Peter on was incredibly easy. Mostly because it was things that shouldnât turn him on. Running your hand through your hair, stretching your arms, which caused you to stick out your chest. Even just reaching up to hold onto the railing while on the subway got him flustered.
Of course, that didnât stop you from doing more intentional acts. You may or may not have stuck your ass out more than needed when you had to kneel to check the price of something. You may or may not have also tied your hair back so that your neck and collarbones were always on display. After years of dating, you knew Peter had a thing for marking you.
You couldnât lie, Peter was simultaneously adorable and hot right now. His stuttering, running his hand through his hair, and hardly being able to make eye contact brought back so many memories of when you first met him. At that time, you were stunned someone so attractive was so nervous talking to you. Even to this day, sometimes you still had a hard time believing it. Believing that someone so amazing, so handsome, so incredible was attracted to you.
But it was times like these where you werenât just aware of that fact, you were relishing in it.
Which is what gave you the confidence to slip off one of your undergarments while you were in the bathroom. You had suggested that the two of you stop by to grab some coffee and sit down to rest for a bit. You were almost done with your errands, you just had to a few things from your favorite deli.
You may or may not have suggested this specific place because they have long tablecloths that reached the floor.
âYou good, bunny?â You couldnât stop the grin on your face once you heard his nickname for you. Apparently, it had to do with the fact that one of the first things he noticed about you was how your nose would scrunch up when you laughed, like âa cute little bunnyâ.
âYeah, Iâm good,â You said as you sat down, gripping the sides of your dress so your surprise wouldnât be ruined.
âSoâŚ. after this, we just have one more errand to do, right?â He asked before taking a sip of his tea. His hands had stopped shaking but making eye contact with you was still difficult-which alerted you that yes, he was still turned on. You toyed with the table cloth, pulling it so that your lap and legs were covered by it.
âWe do! After that we can go home and doâŚ.whatever,â or whoever.
You reached your purse and started to fish out your chapstick. You found it-finally-only for the tube to slip out of your fingers and roll under the table.
A total accident.
âBabe,â you looked up through your eyelashes, âCan you get that please? I donât want to flash the whole place.â
It wasnât a lie. He just didnât know yet how much you would have shown the cafĂŠ.
His brown eyes widen before he could mumble a mix of âyeahsâ and âsuresâ. He bent down to put his head under the tablecloth. As he did so, you couldnât help but grin as you spread your legs.
Peter Parker knew he was not subtle when it came to how much he liked you. He nearly ran into a wall when he first met you because he could not stop staring.
You, on the other hand, had gotten much bolder when it came to making it known that you wanted Peter.
As soon as he ducked under the table, the scent hit him. Heâd recognized it anywhere, as it was his favorite scent. It was your arousal, but why could he smell it here-
Oh. Fuck.
Well, that would explain it. Your legs were spread wide open and somehow you no longer had on underwear.
Peter had a feeling you knew how much this sundress turned him on. Now he had confirmation that yes, you not only knew but were teasing him about it. His eyes were burning into your exposed core and if you werenât in a public place, heâd had no issue burying his face in between your thighs.
âYou good babe?â You asked innocently from above.
Peter gripped the chapstick, taking one last look before he got out from the table. He placed the chapstick on the table, with a bit more force than usual. There you were, smiling away as if you had no idea what he had just saw when you totally did.
Fuck being a responsible adult, Peter needed to fuck you now.
âYeah,â He grunted out, âAll good. We need to go home. Now.â
You titled your head to the side, feigning confusion, âBut we have to-â
âWeâre going home now.â His eyes were dark and narrow. It felt like they were burning a hole through you.
âOkay,â You said, smiling before you took another sip of your iced coffee. You considered arguing, prolonging your teasing. But with how he was looking at you, like he wanted to devour you right then and there, made your reconsider.
Peterâs arm never left your waist the whole way home. You could feel his long fingers gripping the hem of your dress, most likely to ensure that you didnât flash anyone. It also had to do with how horny he was right now.
You walked through the door of the apartment you two shared, slower than usual. You knew it wouldnât be long before Peter had his way with you, so you were determined to enjoy your teasing while it lasted.
âWe should put the produce away first. Do you still have the video about installing the shower head-â
A large hand snuck up from the nape of your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling it, forcing your head to tilt back. You looked up to see Peter there, pupils blown and a hungry look on his face.
âBedroom. Now.â He grunted. You nodded your head as he walked you to the bedroom, keeping a tight grip on your hair.
âGet on the bed,â he ordered as soon as the door opened. You nodded and began to grab the hem of your dress to begin taking it off.
âKeep it on.â Oh. Okay then.
You walked over to bed you shared with him, sitting down. The look on his face was nothing but devious and youâd be lying if you said it wasnât turning you on.
You loved how sweet and gentle Peter was with you. But you also loved when he was desperate and rough.
He leaned over and in that moment, you felt so small. He gripped your shoulders, pushing you back so you were lying down. You then felt his hands move from your shoulders down to the hem of your dress.
You hissed at the feeling of the cold air hitting your core when he hiked your dress up to your waist, exposing how soaked you were.
âSomeoneâs been a fucking tease,â he whispered as he traced his fingers along your thighs. He leaned over, his face inches away from yours. You didnât dare move, not unless he told you to.
âSee, my original plan was to just fuck you,â you felt his fingers get closer and closer to your soaked cunt, âBut after that little stunt you just pulled?â
He leaned in, his breath hot on your ear, âIâm going to wreck you.â
Without warning, his fingers were filling up your cunt, curling just so to hit that sweet spot. You were already an incoherent, rambling mess which should have had you worried considering Peter had just started.
âYou like being a fucking tease?â You felt his other hand tighten around your throat. You did your best to nod, which was hard with how relentless his fingers were on your cunt right now.
âCâmom bunny, use your words,â his fingers stilled inside of you, keeping you filled but not giving you what you needed. His grip on your throat loosen, enough to make it easier to talk.
âI-I like being your tease, Peter,â you got out, praying it was what he wanted to hear.
He smirked, âthatâs right, you are mine bunny.â God, you hated that nickname when he first started calling you that, and now it was getting you even more wet.
Peterâs hand left your throat and trailed down to meet his other hand. His fingers began moving once again, in and out of you. You then felt another finger drawing circles on your clit.
Your back arched as you moaned obscenities, which was probably going to get you another complaint from the neighbors but at this moment you didnât care. You were too focused on the knot in your stomach that was building and building
âPeter.â
âHmmm?â He looked up at you, his hands still working on your pussy. Fuck, why was he so hot?
âI-Iâm c-close,â you buried your head into the pillow, bracing yourself for what would happen next. It wasnât your first time getting punished for teasing Peter.
âGood girl.â
Suddenly, you were empty, his fingers gone. You bit your lip, knowing better than to whine at the loss of contact. Even though your eyes were closed, the sound of the bottle of lube opening told you everything you needed to know.
âLook at me,â you opened your eyes to find Peter hovering over you. He had one hand on his leaking cock, which was lined up at your entrance.
âTell me what you want,â He whispered as he pushed a strand of your hair out of your face.
âYou Peter, I want you.â
He chuckled, âIâm right here. You gotta be more specific bunny.â
Your whole body felt like it was going into heat. Your mind was racing through a million different thoughts, though they all had to do with just how badly you wanted Peter to fuck you.
âI wantâŚ.I want your cock inside of me. Please, please, fuck me, please.â
Peter chuckled, âyouâre so cute when you beg.â
Before you could say anything, he began pushing inside of you, slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size.
Your back arched as he fully buried his cock inside of you. Your hands reached from him, grabbing onto whatever part of his body you could get. Peter rested his forehead on yours, wanting to be as close as possible.
âThis okay baby?â He whispered, dropping the facade for a moment. No matter how heated things got, the last thing Peter wanted to do was hurt you.
You nodded your head, âpleaseâŚplease move.â
âIf you insist,â he began to pull out, almost all the way before he slammed his hips into yours.
âFuck! Peter!â He felt amazing, you never wanted it to end.
âFuck bunny, always so tight for me,â he buried his head into the crook of your neck.
His pace was relentless and you loved that all you could do was just lie there and take it.
Peter gripped your thighs as he leaned back, adjusting so he was now on his knees. The change in position allowed him to spread your legs apart even more. Fuck, it felt like he was splitting you open on his cock. You were going to feel this for the next few days but you didnât care.
You opened your mouth to speak, but he shoved two fingers in before you could get a word out. You moaned around his digits, sucking on them as best you could.
Peter knew he wasnât going to last long, he had been horny all day. Which was why he was done with teasing you and now focused on getting you to finish. He was generous like that.
Totally didnât have anything to do with how your cunt got even tighter whenever you came.
The fingers left your mouth. You then felt them rubbing your clit, eliciting even more obscenities from your mouth.
âYou gonna tighten up for me?â You nodded your head. Between the pressure he was placing on your clit and him rutting into you hard, you knew you werenât going to last much longer.
That knot building in your stomach finally unraveled, hitting you all at once. Your walls contracted around his cock, as if your pussy was desperately trying to keep it from leaving you. He never stopped his movements, which prolonged your orgasm.
âPeter, please, come inside of me,â you whimpered. All you could focus on was how good it was going to feel when he filled you up.
It didnât take long. You already felt amazing, but when you came around Peterâs cock, you felt incredible.
Within a few more thrusts, you heard him groan, which was a sign. You moaned at the sensation of him filling you up with his seed. You grasped his shoulders and pulled him closer to you.
The two of you laid there, trying to catch your breath. You snuck a hand into his hair, massaging his scalp as he placed gentle kisses along your now very marked neck.
âYou should wear sundresses more often,â Peter said, breaking the silence.
âNoted,â you laughed, âIâll order some more.â
âCanâŚcan I help you pick them out?â He asked shyly. It was hard to believe that the guy who just fucked you senselessly was now nervous to ask if he could pick out clothing for you. But that was one of the many things you loved about Peter.
âOf course you can,â you pressed a kiss to his forehead.
âCool,â he paused, âI was looking some up while you were in the bathroom at the cafe.â
You let out a laugh, âif youâre going to fuck me like that, Iâll wear them for the rest of summer.â
âDonât threaten me with a good time y/n.â
trying to draw this still of Charlie bc itâs my favourite thing ever and it feels like Iâve never used a pencil in my life
Kiki's Delivery Service Latte! â¨
This is my fav ghibli film!
Paring: Young!Remus Lupin X Gryffindor!Fem!Reader
Summary: Sirius and James donât approve of Remusâ relationship with his girlfriend of four months.
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#She's So Unserious I Love Her
summary: after Christmas Eve at Remus' flat, thick snowfall prevents you from going home. He's more than happy to host you
cw: mentions of alcohol, smut mdni, p in v, oral (fem receiving), praise, inexperienced reader, shy little idiots in love
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ⥠11k words
Remus isnât sure entirely how heâd gotten strongarmed into hosting Christmas Eve at his flat. James and Lily usually host, but James claimed that this year their house was in too much a state of âbaby mayhemâ to have any hope of being tidied enough for a gathering. Heâs said it in such a lovesick voice Remus couldnât push back for long, his friendâs happiness so potent it was like looking into the sun. Sirius had begged off quickly, saying that his âbachelor padâ was too small to have a group over. As usual, when Remus spoke last, the matter was settled before heâd gotten the chance to have much of a say.Â
Heâs made an effort to live up to the hosting legacy passed onto him by the Potters, but itâs a flimsy attempt at best. Thankfully, the snowfall outside is doing a fair amount of the work for him. Remusâ street is coated in fresh, gleaming powder, enough that the trees look weighted down with it and his neighbor had put her little dog in a knit sweater to go into the yard and do its business. Itâs still coming down, the snowflakes visible in crisp contrast against the darkening sky as they drift lazily to the earth.Â
Inside Remusâ home, the Christmas tree is nearly covered in tinsel to make up for his scant supply of ornaments, heâs run out of stockings to put up above the fireplace and has had to use one large sock (that one will have to be for Sirius), and heâs still stringing up popcorn when a knock sounds on the door.Â
Remus is surprised (heâd told everyone to come at six, but that was only because he didnât think anyone would actually show up until a couple hours after), but that dies away when he unbolts the door and opens it to find you on the other side.Â
âHi,â you say, teeth nearly chattering as Remus ushers you inside. âSorry Iâm late, traffic was worse than I expected.âÂ
âItâs hardly fifteen after six.â Remus takes your coat, tsking. âPeople do seem to become worse drivers around the holidays, donât they?âÂ
âWell, I suppose not everyone on the road tonight might be used to driving in the snow,â you allow, ever forgiving.Â
Remus smiles. âMerry Christmas, love.âÂ
Your face is already flushed from the chill outside, but he could swear it goes pinker as you unwrap your scarf, smiling back at him. âMerry Christmas.â Youâre merry as can be, cheeks dimpling and eyes sparkling under the twinkling lights Remus is suddenly very glad he decided to purchase for the occasion. âWhere is everyone?âÂ
âWell,â Remus says, heading back for the couch, âSirius is hitching a ride with James and Lily, so if I had to guess Iâd wager that James is just putting the finishing touches whatever food heâs decided to bring while Lily tries to rush him out the door. And then theyâll go to Siriusâ place and have to wait for him to finish wrapping the presents he undoubtedly just remembered today.âÂ
You sit beside him with a half-exasperated laugh. âI was thinking Iâd be the last one here,â you admit, âbut Iâd forgotten how they can be when it comes to events.âÂ
Remus shrugs. âEasy to forget.â Lily is usually able to marshal James and Sirius most places on time these days, but the frenzy when they actually have things to prepare is inevitable; Remus has learnt to account for it. He reclaims his half-finished string of popcorn, clumsily stabbing the needle into another kernel and wincing when it goes through easier than expected, pricking his finger.Â
âOh no, did you hurt yourself?â you lean over, trying to see his hand.Â
âNo, just a scratch.â Remus has about a billion of them by now. Heâs far from coordinated on a good day, but the unwise decision to have coffee earlier has resulted in shaky hands that make working with a needle somewhat hazardous.Â
You watch him try again, and itâs really the distraction of your cute frown more than anything else that messes him up. His needle goes through the fluffy edge of the popcorn, stabbing him and giving the string hardly anything to hold onto in the process. The flake falls to his lap for his efforts.Â
âRemus, your handâs not a pincushion,â you say, and you werenât yourself heâd almost think you were chiding him. You reach over, taking the needle and thread from him. âHere, let me do that.âÂ
âI didnât mean for you to come here early so I could put you to work,â Remus protests, watching as you string up the next piece of popcorn with nimble fingers. Jealousy wars with admiration, but his esteem for you wins out. âYouâll never come back for New Yearâs if this is what you have to look forward to.âÂ
You smile down at your hands. âSure I will. Youâll still be there, wonât you? And I really donât mind helping, it gives me something to do.âÂ
Remus smiles back even though youâre not looking. âAlright, well I guess that means I can start rolling out the gingerbread dough. Thanks, love.â He touches his hand lightly to the crown of your head as he stands, letting the urge to press a kiss there pass as quickly as it arises. He goes into the kitchen and a second later you decide to follow. Popcorn swishes against the floor behind you as you make your way over to the bar counter, sitting on a stool with the string trailing all the way back to the couch.Â
âYouâre making gingerbread cookies?â you ask, watching with eager eyes as he plops the dough onto the floured counter, rolling it flat.Â
âMhm. You like them?âÂ
âNever had one.âÂ
Remus feels his eyebrows inch upwards. âSeriously?âÂ
You look almost sheepish, as though this is a crime which you expect to be held against you. Honestly, youâre not far off; had James been here, you would have been questioned and scolded to hell and back, and then he wouldâve made Remus give you some dough to try, salmonella be damned.Â
âNo,â you answer him. âWe made ornaments of them in school, once, but we werenât allowed to eat them. I always thought they were so cute, though, with the little people cutouts.âÂ
âTheyâre the best,â Remus agrees, pressing out the shapes and laying them on the baking sheet. âIf you finish that quickly enough, I might even let you help me cut out a few.âÂ
âYes!â you cheer, and he laughs as you start working quicker with the needle.Â
âDonât hurt yourself. The privilege of cookie cutting is not actually contingent on your labor.âÂ
âI know,â you say, but your hands donât slow. Remus has barely finished filling his second baking sheet before youâre done, having made more progress in the last twenty minutes than he had over nearly an hour.Â
Remusâ hip touches yours as he shows you how to give the cookie cutters a little shake in the dough, freeing the shape before lifting it and placing it on the sheet. Itâs not a painfully difficult task, and still heâs impressed by how quickly you catch on. Youâre a machine of efficiency. You seem to enjoy rolling out the dough almost as much as pressing out the shapes, falling into a quick, happy rhythm. Before long youâve pushed Remus out of the way (Lily would be proud, he thinks), urging him to go and hang up the popcorn garland before everyone else arrives.Â
You havenât seen each other in over a month, both of you caught up in the hustle and bustle of the season, and you catch up as you work on your separate tasks. Remus talks to you about his job, the students who plague him and the ones he wishes he could take home after work each day, and how none of them had liked the film heâd put on the day before break. (âMister Magooâs is a classic!â you protest as Remus shakes his head. âTheyâre too young to get it,â he says. âOur classics are just old to them.â) You tell him about your new cat, and the sweater youâd crocheted her for the holiday which she despises above all else, and he promises to come over sometime soon to meet her.Â
Youâve poured yourselves spiked eggnog and sampled a few ginger cookies (âTheyâre twice as good when theyâre fresh,â Remus says. âDonât let the othersâ tardiness rob you of the experience.â) by the time the door bursts open again, Sirius of course not bothering to knock.Â
âHello!â he calls from somewhere behind a tower of presents. âMerry holiday to you, Moony!âÂ
You get up to help, and so Remus is compelled to do so as well, taking a couple sloppily-wrapped boxes from Siriusâ arms.Â
âMerlin, it smells good in here,â James declares as he comes through the door, Lily carrying a beaming baby Harry on her hip behind him. Jamesâ eyes fall on you. âAw, you beat us here?â
Remus scoffs, setting down the gifts by the tree and leaving you to arrange them as you see fit. âNot a very difficult task, when youâre over an hour late,â he says. âYouâre lucky Y/Nâs good company, or Iâd be more cross with you.âÂ
âSorry,â Lily says as Sirius makes a dismissive sound, flopping onto the couch. âWe had some trouble fitting everything in the car with Harryâs seat, and then Siriusââ she shoots him a glare, and he grins like sheâs sweetly cooed his name ââwouldnât leave without his hat, even though heâd lost it.âÂ
âOne only gets to wear oneâs elf hat every so often,â Sirius justifies, unperturbed. âI wasnât going to miss the occasion even if it took me all night to find it.âÂ
âIt nearly did,â Lily shoots back, but then James is at her side, having discarded his load of food and presents and now vying to hold Harry.Â
âCome here, my handsome little guy.âÂ
âUsed to call me that,â Sirius quips with his mouth full of gingerbread cookies, a heaping plate seeming to have found its way into his lap.Â
Remus isnât going to smile at that poor attempt at a joke, but once you laugh he canât help it.Â
âOnly on special occasions,â James replies, taking Harry under the arms and hoisting him into the air. Harry laughs, and itâs probably the most contagious thing Remus has ever heard. Everyone smiles; James most of all, grinning ear to ear as he does it again.Â
âHe never lets me hold him,â Lily complains fondly.Â
âBecause I know how much you like seeing me with him,â James says breezily, making a face at Harry above him. âYouâre mad with lust right now, Evans, donât try to deny it.âÂ
âSleaze,â Sirius says to him, the bell on his hat jingling when he tilts his head.
âI know you are, but what am I?âÂ
âI,â Remus says, âam hungry. And Iâll bet Y/N is too, since sheâs very politely refrained from snacking much while we waited for you lot.âÂ
James' attention actually leaves his son for half a second to look at you and see if what Remus says is true, and you go instantly bashful. It doesnât seem to matter how long youâre friends with them; having attention drawn to you will always bring some color to your cheeks. Lily comes to your rescue, ushering you into the kitchen like she needs somewhere to channel her mother hen urges while James is monopolizing Harry.Â
âI hope you really are hungry,â she says, âbecause James has made enough bhaji to feed us all for a month.â
Soon even James is stuffed and youâre all a bit tipsy on eggnog. Some of your natural anxiety fades as everything starts to feel slower and more fluid, your insides warm and soft as wax.Â
âNo, because it was so obvious,â Sirius says. Heâs telling a story of a girl heâd seen at a coffee shop that heâs sure was enamored with him. James, naturally, agrees completely, but Lily and Remus arenât so sure. âShe did theâthe thing. Y/N, back me up. When a girl makes eye contact with you and then looks off to the side, it means sheâs not interested, but when she looks down, itâs because sheâs nervous, right?â
You raise your eyebrows. âI think you made that up,â you tell him, tiny bits of laughter running in between your words. âAnyway, is her being nervous necessarily a good thing?âÂ
âShe was nervous because sheâs obsessed with me,â Sirius insists.Â
âOr,â Remus says, âshe was nervous because you were staring at her, and she thought you were going to follow her outside.âÂ
âAnd probably kill her,â Lily agrees.Â
Jamesâ eyebrows shoot up. âMerlin, you two are dark. Our Padfootâs not putting out murderous vibes. Heâs got too much boyish charm.âÂ
Sirius nods appreciatively, but Lily only shrugs, careful not to jostle Harry where heâs sleeping on her lap. âGirls have to think of those things.âÂ
âGross,â James says, looking slightly troubled as he kisses the side of his wifeâs head. âWell, I think she was in love with you, Pads.â
âYeah,â Remus rolls his eyes, âhe should show up at her house and find out. Itâd be romantic.â
âAnd on that note,â James goes on, ignoring him, âshall we do presents?â
You all agree, and Sirius looks at James with an older brotherâs entitlement. âGo ahead and distribute them, Prongsie.âÂ
James, well used to this, doesnât even question it, scampering back and forth between the tree (which you canât help but notice is somewhat lacking in the ornament department but quite sparkly) to deliver your presents at your feet. After a few rounds of this, you canât stand it anymore and get up to help, laughing through the protests of your remaining three friends. (âHeâs got it, love,â Remus says, and Sirius adds, âHeâs got energy he needs to run off anyway.â) Between the two of you, the bottom of the Christmas tree is bare within a couple of minutes, small piles of presents next to each of your friends. You go to sit back by the pile meant for you, touched at the fact that you have a box from every person there.Â
âSânot fair that James and Lily get to do coupleâs presents now,â Sirius complains. âIâm going to start buying gifts for you like youâre one person, see how you like it.âÂ
The biggest pile is obviously for Harry, and you all start there, no small amount of eagerness in Jamesâ expression as he tears open the first box. âThe Velveteen Rabbit,â he reads aloud. âWow, this is kinda hefty for a childrenâs book.âÂ
âWhoâs it from?â Lily prompts, as if you donât all already know.Â
âShit, I forgot to check.âÂ
âAnd thatâs why we read the box,â Lily says slowly, and you get the sense this is a conversation thatâs happened more than once, âbefore we start ripping, honey.âÂ
âIt was me,â Remus volunteers, lips pulling into a half-smile.Â
âCourse it was,â James says, taking a break from sticking his tongue out at his wife to smile at Remus. âThanks, Moony.âÂ
âYou had the opportunity to get him Goodnight Moon,â Sirius tsks, âand you just let it pass you by.âÂ
Remus rolls his eyes, but then Lily says, âHe already has that one,â and you watch as he tries and fails to suppress the shy smile that takes him. It shifts the scars on his cheek and lights his eyes with a warm tenderness.Â
He looks especially pretty under the Christmas lights, you think. The warm glow suits him, bringing out the amber in his eyes and richening the various brown shades of his hair. It makes his skin look softer too, smooth even where you know he has stubble around his jawline. You want suddenly to reach out and touch it, and youâre glad youâre sitting too far from him to act on the urge.Â
Youâve noticed Remus over the years, of course. Itâd be impossible not to. Youâve always harbored a tiny crush on him, but you keep it shoved deep down in your gut where it canât hurt anyone. You think the world of him, but you love your little group of friends more than anything else. Youâre not unaware of the fact that Remus is a more crucial fixture in it than you are; if anything happened between you and it made things awkward for everyone, youâd be the one to go.Â
âAw, is this a hat?â Lily pulls something tawny brown from a box, and you realize theyâve gotten to your gift. âOh my god, it has little antlers!â
You try not to smile too hard as she shows it to James and he coos, taking it from her hands. âNo way, heâll be like our little Prongsie! Iâm going to put it on him.âÂ
âDonât wake him,â Lily warns, but James waves her off.
âHe can sleep through anything,â he says, settling the baby beanie on Harryâs head. Sure enough, he doesnât stir.Â
âOh, thatâs so darling.â Lily presses a hand to her chest. âY/N, whereâd you get this?â
You feel your face heat and hope the lighting is covering your blush. âI made it,â you admit. âI know weâre already well into winter, but I hope he can still use it a little.âÂ
âUm, heâs never taking it off. Like, ever.â James leans around Lily to press a smacking kiss to your cheek. You laugh, trying not to shrink in on yourself from all the attention. âThanks, love.âÂ
Once all the cooing over Harryâs presents is done, the rest of the gift opening proceeds with decidedly less fanfare, though no shortage of gratitude. You get a bunch of purple eyeliners from Sirius (youâd complained to him a few weeks ago that theyâd stopped selling your old one, and heâd been thoughtful enough to find you options to help decide upon new one), a cookbook from James and Lily (âNow you can stop eating all those frozen meals,â James tells you with a meaningful look), and a set of mittens from Remus (âTheyâre alpaca,â he explains. âSupposed to be extra warm, and your hands are always freezing.â). The rest of your gifts are received happily too, and then Remusâ living room is covered with the wrapping paper Lily had tried but eventually given up on getting everyone to put in piles as they went and youâre all starting to yawn.Â
âAlright,â Lily says after a while, âitâs well past Harryâs bedtime, and ours, and Iâm sure Remus would like his flat back.âÂ
âBooo.â Sirius lays back on the couch, letting his head loll over the edge of the armrest. âDomestic life has made you lame, Evans-Potter.âÂ
âYeah, yeah,â James drawls, gathering Harry against his chest, âI saw you yawning, Pads. Letâs go.âÂ
You stand with the rest of them, going to find your shoes by the door. âThanks for everything, Remus,â you say. âIt was great.âÂ
âFor a first time hosting,â James allows, jokingly prideful, âI suppose you did a pretty decent job. Big shoes to fill, and all that.âÂ
Remus smiles as he rolls his eyes, but it falters when his gaze settles on something behind you. âAre you all going to be alright getting home? It looks like itâs really picked up.âÂ
You follow his stare out the window. Heâs not wrong. The unusually thick snowfall youâd arrived in has morphed into something that looks more like a blizzard, the wind whipping white across the black backdrop of sky outside Remusâ flat.Â
James looks between the scene outside and his family once before seeming to make a decision. âYeah, weâll be alright,â he says, watching Lily as he talks. She nods her approval, and Jamesâ voice becomes more solid. âWe donât have far to drive.â
Remus nods, still looking worried. His brows furrow as he turns to you. âWhat about you? Are you gonna be okay?â
âYeah.â Itâs the only answer in these situations, though youâre sure Remus would be alright with the alternative if you felt very strongly. âIt doesnât look too bad out there.âÂ
Remus casts another dubious glance out the window, and a particularly loud gust of wind whooshes past as if to spite you. âAre you sure? It looks pretty bad to me.âÂ
âYeah,â James says, âdonât you live a bit far?â
âItâs not that far,â you fib, at the same time as Remus says, âShe does.âÂ
You laugh awkwardly, pulling on your coat âItâs not. Anyway, Iâve driven in a lot worse than this.â
Lily gives you a small smile. âThatâs hardly reassuring, babe.â
âYou can stay here,â Remus offers, but youâre shaking your head before heâs even gotten the words out.Â
âThatâs sweet of you, but I can make it home.â You give him your most competent smile. âIf I end up driving off the road and have to camp in my car, at least Iâll have fantastic mittens to keep the frostbite from my hands.âÂ
He gives you a deadpan look. âWhile Iâm glad youâre excited to use my gift, Iâd prefer to keep it from coming to that.â
âYou canât get in a crash and die on Christmas,â Sirius says. âItâd be, like, a super huge downer for us every year.âÂ
âIâll be fine,â you insist.Â
âShortcake, I donât care if we have to lock you in here,â James says, frowning in a way that doesnât look particularly tough when heâs swaying back and forth to rock Harry on his chest. âThereâs no way you can drive all the way to your place in this.âÂ
You roll your eyes good-naturedly, wrapping your scarf.
âOkay, you know I would never usually say this,â Lily says, gnawing on her lip as she watches the snow blow past outside, âbut I think you should listen to the boys. It looks too scary out there to drive that far.âÂ
âItâsâŚâ You look between them, your argument dying of futility on your tongue. James seems prepared to blockade you in Remusâ flat, and even Lilyâs giving you a stern look. Your gaze lands on Remus, and the last of your resistance melts away.
âYou really should stay here,â he says kindly. âActually, Iâd feel a lot better if you did. Okay?â
You sigh, slipping your scarf back over your head. âOkay.âÂ
âPhew!â Sirius says, pulling you into a one-armed hug. âGlad thatâs settled. See you all soon, thanks for Christmas Moony!âÂ
âHeâs so tired,â Lily says after Sirius is out the door.Â
âWiped,â James agrees, adjusting his grip on Harry so that he can wrap one arm around Remusâ neck. Remus leans down into the awkward hug, begrudgingly fond as he pats his friend on the back, then kisses Lily on the cheek when James moves to you.Â
âThanks for the gifts,â James says, grinning down at Harryâs knit antlers after he releases you. âHeâs never taking this off.âÂ
âHe means it.â Lily sends her husband a look as fond as it is weary as she hugs you. âIâll probably have to bathe Harry when James is asleep so he doesnât catch him without it.âÂ
Your face is feeling hot again. âIâm glad you like it,â you say with a little shrug, but your friends are used to your shyness and only smile and wave on their way out.Â
And then the door shuts, and you and Remus are left alone in the quiet.Â
âAre you tired?â he asks you, moving back into the living room. Lily had sneakily taken care of a good deal of the cleanup, but thereâs still a few half-empty glasses of eggnog strewn about which Remus begins gathering.Â
âNot really,â you answer honestly, beating him to the sink and forcing him to hand you the glasses to wash. âAre you?â
âNo,â he agrees, and the look he shoots you has to be the gentlest form malice has ever taken as he takes up the dish towel and stations himself beside you. âFancy a film?â
âMmm, a Christmas film?â
âObviously.âÂ
The dishes are finished quickly thanks to Lilyâs interference, and Remus makes you some hot cocoa while you scroll through movies, calling out possibilities. The only conflict between you is your equal complaisance to whatever the other prefers, and you eventually settle on the first one youâd seen just to put an end to it. You take your cocoa gladly when Remus passes it to you, blowing gently while he settles a blanket over the both of you, your knees curled towards him and his one leg crossed over the other angling him towards you.Â
The first few minutes of the film are spent in that contented quietude that the two of you so often fall into when youâre alone together, but then Remus asks you, âWhat is it?â
You look over at him. âHm?â
âYouâre frowning.â
âOh.â You laugh. âIâm just thinking about snow.âÂ
His lips quirk. âIt is kind of the bane of your existence tonight, isnât it?â
âNo.â You smile down at your hands, hoping it's not obvious how not unpleasant you find your circumstances at the moment. âThatâs not it. I was thinking, I kind of hate how it always has to snow in these movies. It makes any Christmas where it doesnât snow feel like itâs not up to par. Or not quintessential enough, or something.â
âMmm, I see.â Remus looks back to the screen, considering. âDoes that make this your quintessential Christmas, then? Are we living up to the movie standard?â
You watch him while he watches the TV, blue light cast over his handsome features. âI guess so,â you say.
The longer you sit there, the closer you get. You blame it on the late hour, your bodies relaxing towards each other on the couch. Remusâ arm brushes yours when he lifts his mug for a sip, and your knees dig into his thigh under the blanket. Soon youâve drooped enough that youâre leaning nearly entirely against him. You donât notice until Remus puts an arm around you to encourage your head to his shoulder. You tense but donât sit up, and eventually his head comes to rest atop yours.Â
âAre you crying?â he murmurs during one scene near the end.Â
Your reply is equally soft, not wanting to jostle either Remusâ head or his shoulder with your speech movements. âI really like this part.âÂ
âYou know how it ends. Itâs going to be okay.âÂ
âI know.â You sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe your face now that youâve been caught. âI know it is. Itâs just really profound.âÂ
âSure it is.â
âItâs the spirit of Christmas, Remus. Goodwill to man.âÂ
âOkay.â He rubs your shoulder, and you pretend not to feel his shaking with quiet laughter. âOkay, I agree with you.âÂ
And awhile later: âYouâre tired,â he accuses.
You hum a denial.
âSweetheartâ âyour stomach flutters, and thereâs a jolt somewhere behind your ribcage; you ignore itâ âyouâre practically falling asleep right here.â
âAre you tired?âÂ
He shifts slightly, stubble tickling your forehead. âNo. But you are.âÂ
âI want to finish the movie.âÂ
He seems to debate this for a moment, then his shoulder relaxes beneath you. âAlright.âÂ
The credits start, and neither of you move.Â
You let your head slump more heavily onto his shoulder. âYour place really does look lovely. Thanks for having me.â
âOf course, love.â You can feel his smile squish up against the top of your head. âWould you go so far as to say my hosting measures up to Jamesâ?â
You chuckle, gesturing to yourself. âIâd say youâve gone above and beyond, for sure.âÂ
Remus laughs too. âPerfect. Tell him so, would you?â
Youâre going to agree when a great yawn takes you. You keep it quiet, but thereâs no avoiding the way your chin digs into Remusâ shoulder, your shoulders rising with the prolonged inhale. He moves away from you.Â
âReady for bed?â He smiles down at you as you run a knuckle under your eyes, collecting tears from your lashes.Â
You shrug an admittance. âSort of. But I donât want to kick you out of your own living room if youâre not tired yet.â
âNo, Iâm pretty wiped too,â he says. âAnyway, Iâm the one kicking you out. Youâre staying in my room.âÂ
You had a feeling he would say something like that. You grab a throw pillow, getting situated with your head near the armrest. âNo, Iâm not.âÂ
His laugh is disbelieving. âYeah, you are. Come on, youâre my guest. Iâm not letting you sleep on the couch.âÂ
You tug the blanket off his lap, curling up with your pillow stubbornly. âIâm not going to steal your bed. Youâve already done so much. Youâve helped me try gingerbread cookies and given me nice mittens and hosted an amazing Christmas. Let me sleep on your couch, please.âÂ
âWhile I appreciate all that,â he says, âno.âÂ
âRemus.â Youâre near pleading at this point. âYour back will hurt.â
âYour back will hurt.âÂ
âNot as badly as yours.â You give him a hard look. âIâm not taking your bed.âÂ
Thereâs a brief silence, terser than your usual ones but no more awkward for it. You stare each other down.Â
âRight,â Remus says, reclaiming the remote from where heâd set it on the coffee table. âI suppose weâd better start another movie, then.â
âRemus, come on.â You sit up, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge. âYouâve just said youâre tired. Go to bed, please.â
The TV flickers back on. âIâm not leaving this couch.âÂ
âWell, neither am I,â you laugh, completely serious.Â
He rolls his eyes, then snuggles up to you under the blanket. You take this as a sign that heâs not really very cross with you. âYouâre much more argumentative than usual tonight, you know that?â
You huff, laying your head back on his shoulder. âI could say the same about you.âÂ
âTrue, but I know Iâll win out in the end.âÂ
âYou can think that if you like.âÂ
âWant to watch this one next?â
âSure.â
Remus watches as your eyes drift closed, then twitch back open, over and over again. He thinks his bony shoulder is the only thing keeping you from falling over the precipice of sleep. If he were James Potter, heâd simply pick you up with ease and carry you to his bed, but Remus canât say heâs entirely sorry for this extra time with you, even if neither of you are awake enough to make much conversation.
Silly as it sounds, he enjoys just sitting here with you nearly as much as talking. Your cheek squished into his shoulder, your legs curled up atop his, youâre warm and weighty against him.Â
He should have known it would be a hopeless endeavor trying to get you to agree to take the bed. Youâre a gentle thing by nature, but stubborn in your selflessness. Even if you had gone, Remus knows he wouldnât have slept all night anyway, too preoccupied with thoughts of you all wrapped up in his sheets, your face pressed to his pillow, getting your shampoo-smell on the pillowcase. He doesnât know if it smells like him (does he have a smell?), but he would have wondered all night if it does, if you were noticing.Â
Your head nearly rolls off his shoulder, and a pitying sound escapes Remus when you jerk awake to set it right. He lets his head rest on yours so it doesnât happen again. Your eyelids droop closed almost immediately, and Remus begins dragging his thumb over your shoulder blade, a nice, slow back-and-forth. Youâre quiet for a long while.Â
âAre you trying to put me to sleep?â you murmur, words all sloshed together.Â
Itâs a conscious effort not to let his thumb slow. âNo,â he says.Â
You hum.Â
âUnless you mean itâs working.âÂ
Another long silence. âItâs not,â you reply, head growing heavier on his shoulder. Â
He chuckles. âCome on, sweetheart. Letâs get you to bed, hm?âÂ
âYou go to bed,â you mumble, and if he thought you were capable of it heâd say there was some bitterness lining your words.Â
He sighs. âYouâre too nice for your own good,â he tells you.Â
âNo,â you reply, softly, plainly, like itâs a fact, âthatâs you.âÂ
He picks his head up off of yours to see your face. âYeah?âÂ
âMhm.â Your eyes are closed. You donât know heâs looking. Your face is wholly relaxed, no hint of pretense about you. âYouâre the best I know.âÂ
Something warm and wheedling works its way through Remusâ ribs to the soft gooey core of him. âWell,â he tells you honestly, âyouâre the best I know.â
You seem unconcerned. âAnother impasse for us.âÂ
He actually laughs at that, instantly guilty when it jostles you on his shoulder and your eyelids peel apart. He canât regret it, though, when you look at him the way you do. Youâre glowing in the light coming off the tree, soft and warm and lovely, and yet youâre looking at him like heâs the only place your eyes want to go. Like itâs the most natural thing in the world.Â
You come gradually more awake, eyebrows twitching towards each other just slightly. âRemus,â you murmur, and he finally does what heâs been wanting to since youâd shown up at his door hours ago. He kisses you.Â
Your lips are pliable, parting for his almost instantly, like youâd been waiting. His hand coasts from your shoulder to cup the back of your head, keeping you close as your nose slides against his. You both all but fall back onto the bed youâd made yourself on the couch. Heâs careful not to put too much of his weight on you, but when his tongue brushes across the inside of your lip and you inhale, he draws back.Â
âI...â He pants into the space between you. âSorry. Iâm sorry. I didnâtââ
You make a sound thatâs half hum, half whine, and bump your chin up into his.Â
Remus loses himself again with frightening quickness. Itâs even better now that you seem more sure, your mouth asking, coaxing against his. You taste like gingerbread. An low, embarrassing sound pries free from the back of his throat when you wind your fingers into the hair at his nape, and he slips his free hand beneath your back, getting as close to you as he can. Your legs make room for him automatically, knees tipping open so he can slot between them.
âDo youââ you breathe when his attentions move downward, tilting your head to the side to offer access as he mouths at the skin just under your jaw. âDo you want this?âÂ
The word leaves him in a soft exhale, muffled against your skin. âYes.â
You swallow. He feels the movement in your throat. âAre you sure?â
His eyelashes brush your jaw as his kisses slow, become more tender, more intentional. âLovely girl,â he murmurs. âYouâre silly, you know that?â His mouth meanders itâs way over to your pulse, getting stuck there and sucking at your skin lazily. âI mean, youâre smart.â The words are all mushed up against you. Noticeably amused. Remus quit the eggnog hours ago, yet he feels half drunk. âYouâre really smart, honey, but you can be so oblivious sometimes.âÂ
You donât respond, and as much as he loves the sound of your voice, heâs hoping your silence is in his favor right now. He wants you wrapped up in him, wants to engross you so completely you forget how to form your lips around speech.Â
âDo you want to move to my room?âÂ
You take a breath. Fuck, even the sound of you breathing is nearly enough to undo him. He moves back to your mouth as if to intercept it, nipping at your lower lip.Â
âIs this a ploy to get me off the couch?âÂ
âYouâre relentless.â
Your lips curve against his, and he mirrors them without thinking. You stay quiet.
âFine. I promise itâs not, okay?âÂ
Your laugh is fizzy like champagne, and it warms Remusâ chest like it too. âOkay,â you say in that lovely voice. âOkay, letâs go.âÂ
Youâd always thought Remus was all softness. Heâs made up of soft looks, soft colors, and hair that you can now confirm is soft as dandelion fluff. But this night has defied your expectations in a thousand ways. And your Remus, soft, gentle, kindhearted Remus, is scraping at your throat with his teeth.Â
You have to suck your lip between your teeth to keep from making a humiliatingly desperate sound when he passes his tongue over his work, another crescent moon thatâs sure to be purple by morning. Your hands are beseeching in his dandelion fluff hair, keeping him close while his hands are busy lower, one gripping the fat of your hip while the other drags tantalizingly slow up and down your side. Heâs kissing you like you have all the time in the world, sometimes rough but no more urgent for it, and youâre breathy and molten and useless beneath him.Â
Youâre brimming with adoration and something else too. Something that you think you could almost identifyâyouâve felt it before, but never like this.Â
âWhat do you want to do?â Thereâs a raspy quality to his voice that would send you to your knees if he hadnât already taken them out from under you. He dots leisurely, open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, soothing over spots heâs already nipped and sucked into oblivion. Your head feels fuzzy. âSweetheart?âÂ
Christ, is he trying to send you into cardiac arrest? Remus doesnât stop kissing you even at your silence, finding your lip still held between your teeth and encouraging it free with his own. You try to remember what heâd ask you. What do you want to do? You have no idea. Where would you even start? You want him to keep talking to you in that raspy voice, thatâs for sure. You wantâŚyou want to keep kissing him, to know what his hands would do if you let them beneath your clothes. You want to keep investigating that warm feeling in your gut. See where it takes you.Â
Remusâ kisses slow, then stop. He pulls back to look at you. In the dim street light coming in through the window, you wonder what he sees. âYou alright?â His voice is soft, gentle, saying itâs okay if youâre not without saying it.Â
You take a breath. It shakes a little on the way out, but you donât think he can tell. âYeah, Iâm good. Just nervous. But not in a bad way.â Nervous-happy.Â
âDonât be,â he implores, lips brushing your cheek. âItâs only me.â
Exactly, you think. Itâs you.Â
âWhat do you want to do?â You turn his own question back on him.Â
His smile is tinged with bashfulness. âI mean, whatever youâre alright with.â Thereâs a tentative quietness to his voice. âHave youâŚâ
If it were possible for you to get any warmer, embarrassment would do it. âNo,â you say, shrinking away from him though thereâs nowhere to go. Whatever the end to that question might be, the answer is no.Â
âThatâs okay,â he says quickly, dropping another kiss on the corner of your mouth like a cure-all remedy. âThatâs okay, you just tell me if you want to stop, yeah? If you donât like something, or you want to slow downâanything at all, you let me know.â He kisses you again, further up on your burning cheek. âOkay?âÂ
You swallow. âOkay.âÂ
âDonât be nervous.â He says it like a promise, hand stroking your side again as if to soothe you. His lips find your shoulder, nosing the fabric of your sleeve. âCan I take this off, lovely?âÂ
You nod, words all stoppered up in your throat, then realize he canât see you and do it yourself. He has to pause as it comes off, taking the opportunity to do away with his own sweater, tossing it on the floor beside the bed. You do the same, and your bra quickly follows. Youâd always thought (largely influenced, admittedly, by trashy novels) that this was the part where the guy stops what heâs doing and openly oggles the shirtless woman in front of him, but Remus has seen tits before and wastes no time in getting his mouth back on yours, pressing you into the mattress. His skin is as heated as yours, the areas where you touch deliciously warm despite the cold still whipping past his bedroom window. You allow yourself one sweeping, appreciative pass over the muscles on Remusâ back before your hands go down to your bottoms, shimmying them down your legs. A long-fingered hand finds the exposed skin of your thigh and kneads reverently. You swallow Remusâ groan, and he kisses you more deeply, long, savoring passes of his tongue along the inside of your mouth until his lips move downward.Â
One hand stays at your hip while the other strokes up and down your thigh, spit cooling in a path down your stomach. You try to relax as he passes your navel, but the anticipation is hard to shake. Youâre nearly trembling when he kneels between your legs, kissing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.Â
âIs this okay?â he murmurs.Â
Itâs all you can do to nod, gasping when his teeth drag over one of the stretch marks there. You clutch at the sheets above your head like a lifeline.Â
âWe can stop anytime you want.âÂ
You inhale raggedly. âNo,â you manage. Your breathlessness is obvious in the quiet room. âI wantâI want to keep going.â You pause. âDo you?â
You can hear the smile in his voice. âYeah, love, that sounds good to me.âÂ
Good, youâre about to say, but Remusâ next kiss lands on your slit, and your voice withers and dies in your throat. He uses a hand to push one of your legs open further while bringing the other over his shoulder, spreading you open. His breath fans hot over your cunt.
Youâre writhing at the first broad stroke of his tongue, and he wraps his fingers around the outside of your thigh, keeping you still while placating you at the same time.Â
Remus takes his time, lapping experimentally at your entrance before making his way upwards. You gasp as his tongue skims over your clit, burrowing your hand in his hair before hesitating.Â
âIs this okay?â you ask.Â
His hummed assent has you tightening your grasp. He brushes over your clit one more time, and when this gets a similar reaction from you, begins sucking on it gently. Youâre panting, and Remus has to move his grip to your hip to hold you in place, squeezing indulgently at the fat there while he narrows in on what you like. Before long youâre trembling all over, grasping feebly at his hair as you squeeze your eyes shut against the odd sort of bliss thatâs taking you under.Â
âRemus,â you breathe, and itâs a miracle that he hears you but he does, raising his head with a lewd suctioning sound.Â
He looks at you questioningly with eyes almost all pupil.Â
âCome here,â you plead.Â
He obeys, crawling back up you to peck at your bitten lips. âDoing alright?â he asks you.
âYeah,â you promise, cupping his head in one hand and wrapping your leg over the back of his as if to prevent him from leaving. âJust wanted to kiss you.âÂ
You feel him smile against your lips. He slots his mouth over yours, and you dedicate yourself to his top lip. He tastes like sex, braver now as he explores your mouth. He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, and you make a high, breathy sound. His grip on you tightens.Â
âDo you thinkâcan weââ
He hesitates, kissing softly at the corner of your lips. âAre you sure?âÂ
âI want to. Do you?âÂ
Remus actually laughs, muffling the sound against your cheek. âYeah, I fucking want to. Iâve wanted to forever.âÂ
You canât think about that. Think about that and youâll fall to pieces.Â
He noses affectionately at the underside of your jaw, slipping down you once again to stand at the end of the bed. He steps out of his pants and grabs a condom from the drawer of his nightstand. âYouâll tell me if I do anything you donât like, yeah?âÂ
âMhm,â you promise, anticipation coiling up snugly with that other thing in your stomach. They donât feel all that distinct from one another.Â
âAlright,â he says, palm slipping under your thigh. âCan I lift this up, love?âÂ
You nod, and he grasps the soft underside of your knee, bringing your leg up to your stomach as he lines up. You gasp as he pushes in slowly, watching your face to make sure youâre doing okay. Youâre already slick and worked open from his ministrations, and itâs still a bit shocking. His thumb strokes beside your knee as your walls adjust to the size of him. âHowâs that feel?âÂ
âGood,â you say honestly. Thereâs a note of desperation to your voice. âI canâmore, please.âÂ
Heâs quick to accommodate you, pushing deeper as he folds himself over you to recapture your lips. Your breaths shallow. His free hand moves to your breast, kneading gently at the soft flesh. He gives it a firm squeeze at the same time as he moves inside you, and you nearly bite Remusâ lip off, a half-suppressed keening sound escaping you.Â
âSo good,â he mumbles. âYouâre doing so good, sweetheart. Taking it so well.â He lifts his head, kissing your temple. âThink you can handle a bit more?âÂ
Your response is barely more than breath, but he catches the affirmation, pressing another firm kiss to your forehead before he bottoms out inside you. Your head lolls back, fuzzy with the strange pain and even stranger pleasure. Remus tightens his grip on your leg to keep it up, dotting kisses down the side of your face.Â
âGood girl,â he says hoarsely. âStill doing okay, lovely?âÂ
âYeah,â you say, somewhat dizzy. âRemus, it feels so good.âÂ
âGood,â he croons. âIt should feel good, love. Ready for me to move?â
âMhm.â
He pulls out slowly, dragging against your sensitive walls. He starts mouthing at your neck again before he pushes back inside you, filling you up all over again. A slew of expletives roll out of your mouth, unbidden and entirely unlike you, as Remus begins pumping your breast again, the rhythm matching that of his thrusts. He sucks the flesh of your neck between his teeth, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to repress what promises to be a high-pitched and deeply mortifying sound.Â
Remus praises you amply, soft kisses and reverent touches and a raspy âFuck, sweetheart, just like that.â Your head floats or swims or both, your body tensed all over and yet completely plaint beneath Remusâ hands. He moves back to your mouth, discovering your bottom lip held captive between your teeth.Â
âCome on, donât do that,â he chides, easing it free with gentle kisses. âLet me hear you, bet you sound so pretty.âÂ
The Welsh accent thatâs grown faint after years of living away from home is emerging now, as is the crude vocabulary it's tied to in memory, a host of barely comprehensible profanities spewing from Remusâ lips when you clench on him again. His grip tightens on your tit, and a moan tears from the back of your throat.Â
âThatâs it,â he praises, head dipping to kiss the soft spot heâs found under your ear. âThere you are, lovely girl.âÂ
The coil in your core grows impossibly tighter, your thighs quivering as you approach a peak youâve never known before. Remus feels it, cooing softly even as he drives into you harder.
âYou gonna cum, sweetheart?â You nod dazedly. âGood, good, just let it happen, Iâve got you.âÂ
âCome here,â you demand again, and he wastes no time in obliging you. He kisses your lips sore as you dig your nails into his shoulders, pulling his body flush against yours, the feeling inside you growing so great you donât know where to put it, donât know if you can contain it. You canât remember ever feeling this close to someone, Remusâ touch the only thing keeping you from hurtling off some unknown precipice.
âLet go,â he urges, and you do. You trust him to catch you.Â
Itâs bliss like youâve never known. You cry out, and Remusâ hand slides down from your breast to spread wide and flat against your ribs. Steadying. He kisses soothingly at your jaw as you gasp and pant your way back to him, grip slackening on his shoulders.Â
âGood girl,â he murmurs, though you really havenât done much at all.Â
âAre youââ You swallow, choking on the emotion thatâs risen unbidden in your throat. âAre you close?âÂ
Remus smiles, coming back to your lips like he canât help himself. He pecks you once, twice. âSweetheart, Iâm more than close. Iâve barely been holding myself together since you kissed me.âÂ
Well, heâd actually kissed you, but youâll take the compliment anyway.Â
âDo you think youâll be alright if I move again?â he asks. âItâs okay if not.âÂ
âYou can,â you say certainly, leaning up on your elbows to see him better. âIs thereâŚanything I can do to help?â
The smile fades from his face, leaving something far more tender in its wake. âJust, keep looking at me like that?â He says it almost like heâs embarrassed, voice quiet with supplication.Â
You want to tell him youâd never needed asking to look at him, but you donât, keeping your eyes on his obediently as he pumps into you. He really must have been close, because heâs cursing again not long after, accent twisting his syllables with a gruff pleasure. Your walls contract at the movement, still sensitive, and thatâs all it takes. Remus digs his fingers into your waist and makes sounds youâre sure youâll dream about, panting, breathy moans you sit up to smother against your lips. He follows you back down onto the mattress, mouth slotted against your own. You hold him to you until his breaths even and his grip on you loosens.Â
âWas that alright?â he asks, some of the rasp still lingering in his voice.Â
You canât help the laugh that escapes you, dizzy with affection. âYeah, it was good,â you promise him. Understatement of the year. âReally good, Rem.âÂ
âGood,â he echoes, lips brushing the skin under your eye. You donât know how you know, but you can feel the amusement building in him just before he asks, âTired yet?â
You guffaw. The force of it jostles him on top of you, and his lips curve against your cheek. âA little bit, yeah.â Actually, you hadnât realized how exhausting sex would be. If it didnât mean having to take your eyes off Remus, youâd have closed them and passed out by now.Â
âGood,â he says again, hands sliding down your waist as he moves to stand again. You make a small sound as he shifts, and Remus shushes you, slipping out from inside you. You watch fascinatedly as he removes the condom, sticky with cum. He tosses it in the wastebasket under his desk and walks away from you.
âHey,â you protest. âYouâd better not be sneaking off to sleep on the couch.âÂ
His chuckle echoes in the bathroom, followed by the sound of a cabinet opening. âSo mistrustful,â he says when he comes back in with a damp towel. âWhatâve I done to arouse such suspicion?âÂ
Your fuzzy brain gets stuck on the word arouse in his teasing tone, and it takes you a second to answer. âWell, Iâm here and a blink away from falling asleep, so you tell me.âÂ
âFair enough.â He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, taking your thigh in his grasp to move it aside. âAlright if I clean you up, love?âÂ
You startle, coming up on your elbows to see where Remus is holding the towel between your legs. âI didnât realize itâd be so messy,â you admit. âYou donât have to, though, I can do it myself.âÂ
âI donât mind,â he says, thumb soothing over your knee. âSâmy mess anyway.â He seems to have not quite agreed with himself to say that last part aloud, a blush spreading over his cheeks.Â
âSure,â you say, mostly to alleviate his embarrassment. You let your weight lean more heavily on your elbows, trying your best to look relaxed. âSure, if youâre alright with it.âÂ
âMight be a bit sensitive,â he warns. Youâd guessed as much, but it's worth it for all the praises he rains down upon you as he works, finishing with a kiss to the side of your knee.Â
You miss him humiliatingly when he goes to the bathroom again to discard the towel. Itâs all you can do not to reach for him when he comes back, but luckily Remus reads your mind anyway, slipping under the covers and tugging you to him until his lips rest against your forehead.Â
âThat was really great,â you tell him.Â
âI thought so too.âÂ
âYouâll stay here, right?âÂ
A low laugh. âYeah, sweetheart. Iâm staying here.âÂ
Remus hasnât known anyone to sleep in longer than Sirius, but you seem to be vying for his title. The sun has long since passed above his windows when Remus wakes, and still he has time to spend idle hours marveling at the closeness of you. His nose is cold above the covers, but everywhere your bodies are pressed together is warm, your palm flat against his chest and one of your legs wormed between his own. Your fingers twitch as you dream.Â
It has to be early afternoon by the time he rises, slipping his hand carefully from beneath you and plodding into the kitchen. The blanket is still on the couch where you left it, throw pillow creased with your indentation. Your mugs are discarded on the coffee table with globs of once-hot cocoa stuck to the bottom. Bright light refracts off the snow outside and into his kitchen, making everything look shiny new.Â
Remus starts the kettle first, letting that warm up while he rifles through the cabinets for his big mixing bowl and starts whisking together ingredients. A bird chirps outside as the kettle gurgles, and somehow the peace of Remusâ kitchen feels more complete knowing that youâre sleeping just down the hall.Â
Until, apparently, youâre not. Your footsteps are so silent he startles when you appear, still blinking yourself awake as you cross your arms over the sweater youâve thrown on with your bottoms from the night before. Remusâ sweater. And Remus had thought heâd come to terms with the idea of you here, in his apartment like the best Christmas gift of all time, but apparently not, because his heart stutters and stops at the sight of you.Â
Heâd thought youâd looked adorable in the soft glow of the Christmas lights the night before, and again tucked into his sheets this morning, but youâre almost ethereal now. Sunlight bathes the planes of your face and gleams off your hair, making you appear almost like youâre emanating the bright light rather than standing in it. You smile at him, seraphim.Â
âMorning. Sorry I didnât ask,â you say, fingering the hem of Remusâ sweater. âI was cold and you were gone, I hope you donât mind.âÂ
Mind? Remus canât even think.Â
âCourse not,â he manages, but just barely. Itâs more an exhale than a statement. âDid you sleep alright?âÂ
âReally well,â you say. His sleeves cover your fingers as you rest your elbows on the counter, and your gaze has gone a bit shy again, but Remus can hardly blame you. You both seemed to have experienced unusual nerve the night before. He only hopes you arenât regretting your part in it. And now that heâs had some time to think, he hopes even more that youâd truly wanted it in the first place. âDid you?âÂ
âYeah, thanks.â
You lean a bit closer in a way that he doubts either of you are even slightly unaware of, peering into the mixing bowl. âWhatâre you making?âÂ
âIâm experimenting,â he says, though he wishes now he werenât. He wanted to make you something good, but his confidence in his adaptation is waning now that youâre in the room. He should have gone with something basic, tried-and-true. âOr, Iâm attempting. Gingerbread pancakes?âÂ
His voice crawls up into a question, as if he really has no idea what it is heâs trying to make (maybe thatâs closer to the truth), but Remusâ regrets vanish instantly at the genuine elation that lights your expression.Â
âReally?âÂ
A laugh startles out of him, giddy. âYeah, does that sound alright?âÂ
âMore than alright,â you declare with full seriousness, seating yourself at the bar counter. âThat sounds amazing, Rem, thank you. Merlin, I owe you so big for all of this.âÂ
âI think youâve more than made it up to me.â It slips out without permission, Remus too high on the flow of your conversation to filter the words through his brain before they reach his mouth. His loathsome, traitorous mouth. âI mean, Iâm sorryâfuck, that sounds awfulâI only meant that Iâve had a really good time with you here. Iâm glad you stayed.âÂ
You flush horribly, and Remus doesnât expect heâs faring much better.Â
âNot that Iâm only glad because ofâor, Iâm always glad to have you. As a friend, too.âÂ
Thereâs a tiny pinch in your features, gone before he can diagnose it. Somehow, you seem even more uncomfortable. âRight.â You give him a thin smile. Itâs a hearty attempt, but youâre too genuine a soul to fake it. Remus hates himself for it. âAs a friend.âÂ
Theyâre his own words, put hearing them from your mouth and with that piss-poor smile feels like having a fire poker jammed between his ribs.Â
With his track record this morning, he really should be taking a vow of silence, but he canât seem to stop himself. âJust friends, then?â Hesitance makes his voice sound quiet even in the silent kitchen. He looks down, stirring the batter to avoid watching the answer take form on your face.Â
âI mean,â your tone is a match to his, âis that what you want?âÂ
A short, soft laugh escapes him. âI think I made what I want fairly clear last night.âÂ
Thereâs a short silence. âI thought I did too.âÂ
Itâs a conscious effort to keep stirring. Had you? Remus had kissed you, heâd brought you to his room, heâd been the one to ask if you wanted to do more. And youâd been game for it all, sure, but he canât help but wonder if you were just going along with it. If maybe youâd thought it was just a fuck, something heâd come up with to pass the time while you were both snowed in, no strings attached. Remus could understand that. He could disentangle the strings from last night if itâs what you want. But heâs liked you for years. He could love you oh so easily. Heâs practically teetering on the edge of it already, though youâve only been friends all this time.Â
Remus spoons some batter into a waiting pan on the stove. Heâs debating asking what exactly it is that you thought youâd made clear when you speak again.Â
âI understand if itâs too much for you.â Your voice is shy. He looks up, and your shoulders are hunched as if youâre trying to hide yourself. You shrink further under his gaze. âWe can stay just friends if itâsâŚif thatâs what you want. I want whateverâs easier for you.â Your next words are so impossibly soft, Remus has to strain to hear them over the low sizzling of the pancake batter. âI really want you to stay in my life.âÂ
âWhat?â Itâs a staccato, loud enough that it surprises you both, Remus stepping toward you while you nearly flinch back. âSorry.â His hand goes up, reaching into the space between you as if he can soothe you from feet away. He lowers his volume. âSorry, sweetheart, I justâI didnât realize that was even on the table. I would never want to not be in your life.âÂ
âI just mean that I donât want to make things weird for you, or for everyone elseââ
âHey.â He manages to cross the distance this time, his hand landing on your wrist atop the counter. Remus isnât sure why he needs it there so desperately, but he suddenly feels much better. âThere is nothing that could make any of us not want to be friends with you. I can speak for everyone in that regard. Okay?âÂ
You look at him consideringly for a moment. Remus holds your stare, letting you see his certainty. âOkay,â you echo, sounding unsure. Heâll deal with that later, he decides.
âOkay,â he says once more, and itâd almost be firm if it werenât so gentled by the tenderness he can never seem to get rid of around you. Even so, what he says next doesnât sound particularly tender. Itâs not very kind to you, he knows, but Remus is selfish, and he feels (selfishly) like heâs done his part already. He tries to phrase it as nicely as he can. âCan you tell me what it is that you want, please?âÂ
You try to shrink again, and Remusâ grip tightens on your wrist instinctually as if to keep you from running off. He swipes his thumb over your skin apologetically. âRemus, come on.â You sound almost upset, but itâs hard to tell with your voice so quiet. âI know Iâm not that good atâat covering myself up. I must have hearts in my eyes half the time I look at you.âÂ
Remus would give a monthâs rent to know what you can see in his eyes right now. Even if heâd been hoping for an answer something like that, he hadnât expected it. And for you to act like itâs been obviousâŚhe does his best to think back.Â
Youâve always been a shy thing. It had taken James months to get you to be remotely yourself around them, and though youâd seemed to warm to Remus first, youâd always retained some of your bashfulness when you were alone together. Heâd chalked it up to the result of two people, quiet by nature, with no wildly extroverted James or Sirius or Lily to run interference.Â
Youâve always been kind to him, but youâre kind to everyone. How is anyone supposed to suspect favoritism from a soul as indiscriminately sweet as yours?Â
He recalls your voice last night, thin and reedy and fragile as the cattails that had bordered the river behind his house as a kid. Wary of getting swept along by the current, but willing to go if Remus would take you. Do you want this?
Heâd called you oblivious for asking. How could you wonder, when heâd been the one to kiss you and has probably been looking like he wanted to for years? Heâs certainly been thinking about it for as long. But perhaps your obliviousness is another congruity between the two of you.Â
So much for opposites attract.Â
âI think Iâm an idiot,â he says, and mercifully, a smile far more real than the last sneaks onto your face.Â
âYou are not,â you reply, ever forgiving.Â
âDonât tell Sirius,â he warns, âbut I really think I am.â His voice drops into a more earnest register. âI had no idea, love, Iâm sorry. Maybe youâre a better actress than you thought. But if you donât want to be friends, I donât want to either.â Remus hesitates. âOr, I always want to be your friend, justââ
âRemus?âÂ
Finally. Someone needs to stop him. âYeah?âÂ
âYour pancakeâŚâ
He turns to find a thin spire of smoke rising from the pan. âOh, fuck.â He grabs a spatula and quickly flips the pancake, but thereâs no saving it. The bottom side is completely blackened. Itâs inedible. âSorry, IâŚIâm not sure I have enough batter for much more.âÂ
âItâs fine.â Thereâs laughter in your tone, and thatâs more than enough to make up for it. âIt was a really sweet thought, thatâs what matters anyway.âÂ
Remus turns to find youâve slipped out of your seat and are standing uncertainly on the threshold of the kitchen. His heart warms with incandescent, aching fondness.Â
âWould you come here?â he asks.Â
You comply with an eagerness he wonders heâs never noticed before, stepping forward to let him fold you into his arms. Your wrists cross over his mid back and the tip of his nose mushes into your hair as he touches his lips to the top of your head. He canât believe he could have been holding you like this all along if only he hadnât been so thick. He supposes heâll have to make the most of it now.Â
âLetâs do away with asking about want, does that sound alright?â He rubs lightly between your shoulder blades, wonders if you like the feel of his breath on your scalp. âHow about you tell me if anything comes up that you donât want, and Iâll do the same.â
âYeah.â Remus knows he likes the feel of your voice on his skin, chin moving against his chest. âYeah, that sounds good.âÂ
âGood.â He smiles, pressing another kiss to your head. âOkay, should we venture out to find something for breakfast? Or lunch, I suppose it is by now.âÂ
You ease out of his arms. âI really should go home.â Thereâs an apology already embedded in your tone, but you add one anyway. âSorry, but my catâs been there all night by herself, soâŚâ
âRight.â Remus ignores the dull throb behind his sternum, which is really a bit dramatic. Heâll see you soon, surely. âYeah, that makes sense. Think youâll be able to drive?âÂ
âI mean, I looked outside.â You shrug, backing towards where youâd hung your coat the night before. âThe roads here are cleared, which I hope means theyâve gotten to most of them already.âÂ
âThatâs good,â he says, though he feels the opposite. Your poor cat, heâs pitted completely against her now. Sheâs done nothing to deserve the resentment heâs directing at her, almost petulant in his malcontent. âGood, good.âÂ
Youâre both silent as you put on your shoes, your scarf. Itâs not unusual for the two of you, but it lacks its usual easy contentedness. Your eyes flit up as you pull on your new gloves, a silent thanks in them that you know Remus wonât let you voice aloud again. Despite the upset in his chest, he smiles.Â
âIâŚlisten, I have to go home,â you tell him, looking down as you wriggle your fingers more snugly into the gloves. âI have to feed my cat. But that doesnât necessarily mean I want toâŚleave.âÂ
Remus canât see how that changes anything, but he recognizes it for the olive branch it is. Youâre both so uncertain, and youâre trying to alleviate his worries about what you leaving right now means. He can return the favor.Â
âI donât want you to leave either,â he says, âbut I get it. She seems important to you, best to keep her well.âÂ
âExactly.â You smile, relieved. âBut I mean, if youâre not doing anything, you could come meet her? We could pick up breakfast on the way. Or I could make you something there.âÂ
Remus canât believe his luck. And, once again, his stupidity in not getting there himself. Why is it that all of a sudden, everything that has to do with you seems so absurdly difficult? At least one of you is thinking clearly.Â
âYeah, that would be fantastic.â Heâs grinning hugely, totally unlike him but liking it very much. âLet me grab my coat.âÂ
âWait.â Thereâs a newly familiar breathless quality to your voice, and when Remus turns youâre already coming forward to meet him. Your palm slides against the stubble along his jaw as you stretch your neck, kissing him sweetly on the lips. âThere,â you say, timidity shrouded beneath a good layer of happiness, ânow weâre even.âÂ
Remus laughs, loud and startled. He wants to be generous with you, he really does, but he still thinks youâre far from even. âIâm not sure about that, sweetheart,â he says warmly, pressing a brief kiss to the corner of your eyebrow, âbut we'll get there.âÂ